The Hug

There they stood, father and son. Father and son stood in the living room of the home that the father bought and the son grew up in. The son had plenty of words he wanted to say to the father, but none that wouldn’t make the son burst into tears after saying them. So, the son held in the words even though he wanted to ask the father a thousand questions. The son had questions about the father’s childhood, Gainesville, the Tombigbee, Papa Gee, other ancestors. There were questions about their time together as father and son. There were so many questions that needed to be answered, but the son had no way to ask them without bursting into tears.

The son didn’t ask the questions. The son wrapped his arms around his father’s gaunt body and held tight instead. A minute went by, then two minutes had passed and the son continued to hug his father. The son didn’t want to let go. The son didn’t let go, even though he knew the hug must have made the father uncomfortable. Then the father, never one to show much emotion, did something that surprised the son. The father hugged the son back. There they stood, father and son hugging.

Father and son stood silently in that living room. Both father and son held each other. The son squeezed tight, but not too tight. He was afraid he might harm his father. The father, who was dying of cancer, had his arms around his son. The son wished he had more time on this Earth with the father. After another minute, the son let go of his father. The son looked away. The son couldn’t look his father in the eye. The son too scared to look his father in the eye. The son was afraid he might start crying. The son tried to appear brave for the father. The son wanted to cry. The son wanted to tell his father just how much he would miss him. But the son didn’t not break down and cry in front of the father. The son said goodbye to his father as if he’d see him again on this Earth.

The son lived across the country, several time zones away. The son had a plane to catch. The son had a wife and kids and needed to return home. The son, who wasn’t very religious at the time, hoped like never before for an afterlife so he could spend more time with the father one day.

The father’s gone now. The father’s been gone for going on eight years now. But the son still remembers that hug. The son remembers standing in the house that the father bought and that the son grew up in. The son remembers his father’s face. The son remembers his father’s voice. The son remembers hugging his father. The son remembers wanting to ask questions but not having the courage to ask them for fear he’d cry in front of his father.

Now, when the son wakes up crying in the middle of the night, the son’s wife knows the son is dreaming about the father. The wife knows the son is dreaming about the hug he gave the father. The wife knows the son is dreaming about the hug the father gave the son.

The wife gives the son a hug and lets him cry all the tears the son wanted to cry in front of his father on the day the father and son hugged for the last time.

First Published in Carry the Light 2016